Page 94 of Severed Heir

He lifted both their arms high, sunlight catching on blood-soaked sleeves like an offering to the gods themselves. A snake curled up Damien’s arm, its blood-slick scales glinting as its tail flicked across his shoulder, then sank beneath his skin, leaving behind a trail of inked legacy.

Across from him, Bridger bore the serpent’s other half, its head etched along the curve of his neck, the mark slithering down over his collarbone like a brand of war.

Beside me, Lasar leaned down, his grip tightening on my shoulder. “I never agreed with the bargain your father made to keep the sun burning in his realm.”

My lips parted. “He’s alive.”

But the truth slammed into me like a wave. He let me believe he was dead.

I staggered forward, chest burning, but Ellison caught my arm. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.

“Anywhere but here.”

His fingers tightened. “I risked my life for this,” he snapped. “The least you could do is pretend you’re remotely interested in me.”

“I’m not. And I’m sorry if you ever believed I was.” I took a deep breath. “Actually, I’m not sorry.” I yanked my arm free, but he held tighter.

“I don’t think you understand,” he said. “Charles sanctioned me to keep an eye on you.”

“Then you can tell Charles to kindly screw off, minus the kindness.”

Then the king raised a hand, his jeweled rings glinting beneath the overcast sun. “All are welcome at the Serpent estate for the final celebration. The ship departs shortly to honor the crowned heirs.”

Journalists swarmed Damien and Bridger like starved beasts. Two heirs. It had never happened before in all of the Academy’s history, at least not two heirs crowned during the same trial. And I had no idea what it even meant.

I couldn’t look at Damien. I couldn’t breathe. Because if I did, I might shatter for how deeply he’d betrayed me for letting me believe he was dead.

I couldn’t think of Malachi. I couldn’t let that fresh wound breathe.

“I’m going to the Serpent estate,” I whispered, already turning from the stands. My heels cracked against the stone as I took off toward the dock.

Ellison said from behind me, “I’ll come with you.”

Of course he would. And right now, I didn’t have the energy to deal with whatever brand of desperation this was.

I crossed the courtyard. The sea thrashed below as the boat rocked against the dock.

“Severyn!” Ellison called out again. “Why are you so upset? I thought we were friends—I thought… you chose me to court you. Let me at least try.”

I turned. “I’ll never choose a man just to survive. I’ll never force myself to marry someone because politics says I should.”

“My father needs an heir,” I added. “And he has one. I’m not for barter. Not anymore.”

Then I left him standing in the cold and climbed up into the boat. He followed, not even one step behind,

“Your brother gave me his blessing, the Serpent, too. This all goes away. My father offered sunlight, take it.”

“Why do you care so badly?”

“Because I see myself in you.”

“Ellison, we’ve known each other for not even a month. It’s weird. You’re acting weird!”

In an instant, we were swallowed by a mass of spectators already deep into their liquor. I was one cheer away from punching someone in the nose. So, I turned sharply, my cloak snagging on a stack of wine barrels as I searched for air.

“If you don’t want a courtship,” Ellison said, his voice tight, “then at least tell me what’s going on with you.”

I turned to face him, heat rising in my throat. “A man I watched die just claimed heir,” I snapped. “My best friend is dead. Don’t ask me to be calm or explain how I feel.”

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